


If the wall falls before it's built

by lexlorraine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 18:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11995914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexlorraine/pseuds/lexlorraine
Summary: Sam's wall didnt workIdk i wote this in five minutes before bed





	If the wall falls before it's built

A rattle in the floor, heavy thumps below withered hardwood.

Dean and Bobby shared a split second look, communicating one thought; panic room.

They stumbled up from creaky dining room chairs; the beers abandoned and fresh screetches staining the atmosphere.

Within seconds they'd hurriedly fumbled down the stairway, ungracefully scrabbling hands on cool metal; the door swung wide. 

Dean swallowed the drum beat ballooning in his throat. It'd been days, and Sam - Sam? 

The muscles of the lanky body were so tightly coiled, the rigid outline was visible beneath Sam's button up flannel. His legs baby-deer-wobbled as they buckled beneath him, arms occupied with clutching the cot holding him up. A single, stiff blanket slipped from the bed, entangled in Sam's clawed fingers, and he went down with a faint gasp.

dean rushed forward in a woosh of 'Sam, Sammy, Sam''s. His fingers reached out to a shaky shoulder and Sam erupted. His entire body emenated pure, unfiltered panic; he launched himself to the other side of the room in an unexpectedly swift scooting-crawling motion. 

"Sammy, it's ok, man. It's ok, it's just me," he hushed, hands surrendered, slow movements. Sam was a wild animal; all darting eyes and heaving chest. Dean kneeled several feet away, mentally screaming at Bobby to stay put; the poor kid was frantic enough. Had the wall not stuck? 

He leaned in and tried to catch Sam's eye, tried to show rather than tell; 'You're safe, I won't let any of those sons of bitches hurt you again'. When his terrified brother finally did meet his gaze, Dean didn't recieve the standard Winchester nod of 'I'm fine' like he'd expected. They'd developed their own subtle language over the years, but Sam seemed to have lost all fluency. Dean's veins crystalled with ice. He didn't want to think about the hell rattling the kid's brain hard enough to reduce him to this.

"Talk to me, kiddo," his voice cracked pathetically.   
Sam's brow twitched but he simply watched Dean wearily, cautiously. 

A moment of piecing nothingness shrouded the stuffy air.

Finally, finally, Sam's breathing leveled and after a moment, he raised a twitchy arm from the concrete, pointed to the knife hilt sticking out of Dean's boot like a glittery, metal bone.

"What?" Dean croaked. He unsheathed the knife, holding it in the stale light. The shaky arm lifted, wrapped hesitant fingers around the portion of the hilt unobstructed by Dean's fingers. Dean released his grip and watched as Sam's eyes narrowed, focused on the sharpened edge. He held it between his inspecting eyes then, with no warning or millisecond of reluctance, brought the edge down on his adjacted wrist, slicing a neat, clean line just below his palm.

"No!" Dean awoke and snatched the knife away, instinctively tearing a chunk of fabric from his shirt and tying it around Sam's crimson-black wrist. At first, Sam fought to get away, but Dean kept an iron grip on the bleeding arm and Sam went limp. 

Reality bled all together; Bobby yelling something about stitches, two pairs of rushing legs and one pair dragging, all frenzying up the narrow stairs in a garbled haze. 

Denim, wood, leather boot.

All the while, Sam watched Dean with a confused, disapointed look; 'like a kicked puppy', Dean thought.


End file.
